Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
by Mika-chan
Summary: After Karofsky's attack, Blaine just wants things to return to status quo, but it's not as easy as that. Sequel to Reality Check.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A few people requested that I continue _Reality Check_, so here it is. I'm uncertain if this is what people expected, so C&C is welcome (even if it is to tell me that continuing this was a horrible idea).

* * *

Wes rode with Blaine to the hospital.

The EMT had suggested that an adult ride with him instead in the event an immediate decision had to be made at St. John's (Blaine's parents were out of the country), but Blaine refused to let go of Wes' hand. Seeing his patient growing agitated, Mark, the EMT, didn't push the matter any further.

The ride was fairly quiet. The only breaks in the silence being when Mark inquired to Blaine's comfort and in response Blaine would either shake his head yes or no.

Blaine hadn't actually said a word since his murmured confession to Wes and the Asian would have been worried if he hadn't seen Blaine like this before.

It happened occasionally during freshman year, less so the following year, and was now a non-issue. Although if asked, Blaine would advocate that it wasn't an issue at all, but no one ever asked Blaine. Well, until Wes did.

It was hard not to, being Blaine's roommate and all. It wasn't as if Wes was incapable of respecting a person's privacy, but the random instances of unnatural silence was stressing him out. Blaine wasn't the most talkative person back then, but even when he wasn't speaking you knew he was there. Whether he was tapping his pencil or his foot, or writing furiously in his black notebook, his presence was always felt. To completely shut down—because there was no other way Wes could describe it—for hours on end freaked Wes out and he wanted to know if there was anything he could do—if there was something he **_should_** be doing. There wasn't though. Nothing but to just let it run its course because

_"Sometimes, it's just too much," Blaine said eyes focused briefly on his hands before lifting to meet his roommate's attentive stare. "It's like—like I'm too full and I need time to filter it all. I know it's weird and I'm sorry, but it doesn't last very long. A single day. Tops. I…I can change rooms if you want."  
_

Wes remembered staring at Blaine for a few beats before giving him a noogie that he hoped would wipe the absurd idea out of the other's head. Blaine was such a hobbit back then: below average height, quiet, but spoke up when he had something to say, and fiercely loyal. He still was, in fact.

It's what made Wes so angry because who would hurt a hobbit (Dark Lords excluded)?

A tug on his hand pulled Wes out of his thoughts and he glanced up to see Blaine watching him. He could see the question in the other's eyes but merely shook his head and offered a reassuring smile instead. The corners of Blaine's lips twitched in what Wes assumed were a poor attempt at a smile before Blaine returned to staring out the back of the ambulance.

If Wes held Blaine's hand more tightly after that, it was only because Blaine did too.

oOo

They were told he had a non-displaced fracture, which was a less serious break than they had initially thought and would only require a cast spanning from his shoulder to his knuckles. Other than that, Blaine hadn't sustained any permanent damage.

"Do you have any questions?"

Dr. Elizabeth Charles redirected her attention from the X-ray film to Blaine who sat atop of one of the ER beds, his left arm splinted and held securely to his chest by a sling. Wes sat in a chair beside him.

"How long will the cast be on?" Wes asked when it didn't seem like Blaine would.

"You're young so you have that in your favor. The cast shouldn't be on longer than eight weeks."

Wes exhaled a long breath. That would put them right around Sectionals, which caused a wave of anxiety to surface, and it was not because he was worried that Blaine wouldn't be recovered by then. In fact, it wasn't difficult to imagine Blaine pushing himself to ensure that he was ready for the competition. Blaine had a single-mindedness that at times rivaled that of a shopaholic on Black Friday. Wes had seen it on multiple occasions throughout the years, especially when glee club was involved. Although good for the Warblers, it also reminded him of the time Blaine had stayed up for three days straight to finish an arrangement to a song they were going to perform at a senior's center. Having a student pass out during the middle of the performance was not exactly uplifting and the resulting concussion was in no way 'totally awesome' no matter how hard Blaine insisted.

"If you don't have any other questions, I'll page the technician to have your cast fitted now."

Wes looked to Blaine who just shook his head no. Dr. Charles nodded once before pulling out a small pad of paper from her breast pocket and jotted something down before tearing out the sheet. "I've prescribed a mild painkiller for you," she said as she handed it to Blaine. "Take one a day with food—two if you're really hurting. Drowsiness is a common side effect, but I don't think I need to tell you not to drive."

Wes knew she was trying to draw a smile out of the teen and at any other time his friend would have happily obliged. Considering everything that had happened today though he wasn't surprised when Blaine just kept his head down. Unfazed, she merely clasped Blaine's right shoulder and squeezed it briefly.

"I hope you feel better soon, Blaine. The tech should be here shortly, so please relax while you wait." She shifted her attention to Wes and asked, "Do you need the number of a car service for when you're finished here?"

Wes shook his head. "A friend of ours let me know that one of our teachers is in the waiting area and will be taking us back to the academy."

Dr. Charles nodded. "All right." Before she left she pressed a small card into Blaine's hand.

Dr. Ann Curtis, Trauma Counselor was written on the business card. "I'm sure your school has a very capable counselor," Dr. Charles said, "but if you would like to speak with someone else, please call Ann. She's a good friend of mine and specializes in individuals who have experienced traumas like you have."

Blaine could only stare at the card and didn't notice when his doctor finally left. His attention was eventually drawn away from it when Wes began to relate something Mr. Peterson had said this morning in his honors English class that he and the entire class thought hilarious. Blaine settled back against the hospital bed, watched as Wes gestured animatedly and allowed a faint smile to spread across his face. All the while he dug the corners of the card into the palm of his hand, using the steady pressure to anchor his thoughts firmly in the present and away from things past.

oOo

Blaine stared up at his dorm room ceiling aware that if he didn't snap out of it soon his friends were going to hold some sort of intervention. He had only just convinced Wes to go grab some dinner and the other conceded after Blaine promised to eat whatever he brought back to the room.

It was the first time in hours that Blaine was left alone and quite honestly, he really needed the space. After leaving the ER, he was met with not only Mr. Miller, his guidance counselor, but also the police. They had wanted a statement. Fortunately, Mr. Miller was able to put them off for a day at least seeing as how Blaine could barely put two words together at the moment.

Although he was only functioning at half mast, Blaine could tell that the overall consensus was that he would press charges against Karofsky. Truthfully, though, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He didn't think Karofsky planned on hitting him no matter if he came to Dalton with a baseball bat. He was just panicked, scared and Blaine wasn't sure if he wanted to make it worse for him considering he was already having a hard time dealing with the possibility that he may be gay. This wasn't like before. Blaine couldn't just ruin someone's life like that without knowing all the facts. Maybe he really was an idiot.

Regardless, he knew how everyone would react if he voiced his current thoughts out loud and because he wasn't up to arguing about it now, he just went along with his counselor's explanation that he was tired and would make the trip down to the police station later this week.

The ride back to Dalton was similar to the one to St. John's: quiet. Wes had sat with Blaine in the back seat of the academy van and after relating that his parents were notified and offering several reassurances to his safety, Mr. Miller didn't subject them to any additional small talk, merely turned the radio on to a soft rock station. Blaine spent the entire ride with his forehead pressed against glass, staring out the passenger window without any real focus. He just wanted to go home. Unfortunately, his parents were in Italy, so Dalton would have to do for now.

Blaine expelled a tired sigh, sweeping his eyes away from the ceiling and to the alarm clock on his bedside table. Wes would be back soon and Blaine wasn't sure if he could keep his promise of eating anything he brought back. His friend meant well, like all his friends (David had sandwiched him in pillows afraid he'd roll over and jar his arm. It was a thoughtful gesture but left Blaine with zero maneuverability), but it was getting a little overbearing.

He felt his phone vibrate and glanced down at the device expecting it to be one of the Warblers checking in on him, but instead saw that it was Kurt.

**In glee. Schuester just gave Tina a solo and Rachel is having a fit. You should hear the verbal diarrhea coming out of her mouth. It would put Chelsea Handler to shame.  
**

An involuntary smile spread across Blaine's face, and he found himself typing back a response.

**Now, now. Play nice. Rachel is just passionate for the arts.  
**

It didn't take long before he received a reply.

**She's SOMETHING all right.  
**

Then:

**How has your day been?  
**

Blaine stared at the question feeling his smile melt away. It was awful actually. One of his worst, but he didn't write that. Instead he dropped his phone back on to his bed and closed his eyes.

He could picture the freak out Kurt would have when he found out what had happened because Blaine wasn't deluded enough to believe that this wouldn't get back to McKinley. Blaine didn't need that right now though—couldn't deal with Kurt right now because if he thought about it—like really, really thought about it—he couldn't stop the train of thought that pointed out the fact that if he had never met Kurt, then this wouldn't have happened.

It was a terrible and misdirected thought, but Blaine was having it nonetheless, was having trouble thinking rationally about everything at the moment. So he decided he wouldn't. He wouldn't think or talk about it. And if it meant he was hiding, he didn't care. For today, at least, Blaine wanted everything to just stop.

Tomorrow. He would deal with everything tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I revised Chapter 1 a bit to give Blaine a less serious broken arm and for him to have a cast on already. The type of break I described originally (I believe) would have had him in bed for a few days, but I didn't want that. It is not entirely necessary to reread the previous part. The only scene altered was at the hospital. On another note, please let me know what you think. I've been seeing a lot of Blaine's past stories lately, so am not sure if I should really continue this because it's getting a little redundant.

* * *

When Blaine woke up the following morning, he decided that he wasn't going to let this set him back. He got past this once before; he was going to do it again, if not faster.

He tilted his head to the side and saw that Wes' bed was empty and a glance to his bedside clock indicated first period was halfway through. He wasn't too surprised with how late he slept in. Rather he was surprised he slept through Wes' alarm and the other's movements about the room to get ready for class. Regardless, Blaine saw that if he got up now, he'd probably make it to second period.

That decided he sat up gingerly from his bed, grunting as his left arm protested fiercely at the movement. He sat there for a while breathing through the steady throbbing pain that was his arm and knew he was due for another painkiller. They were in the medicine cabinet though, so he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and carefully pushed himself to his feet. He then shuffled his way to the bathroom to perform his usual morning routine.

Making it to second period was a theory at best. He had forgotten how long it could take to get ready with only one usable arm. It had taken twice as it normally would to get his uniform on and in the end he just settled on leaving on the t-shirt he had slept in the night before and tossed his blazer on over it. He also forwent the tie.

He gave himself the once-over in the bathroom mirror, eyed his curly hair but couldn't dredge up the energy to do anything about it and made a face at his pale complexion. His arm throbbed again demanding he do something about it. So, he opened the medicine cabinet and stared at the bottle of painkillers for a minute before opting for some ibuprofen instead. He'd fall asleep otherwise if he took what his doctor prescribed. Besides he was able to manage with over-the-counter medication before.

He took three pills and cupped a handful of water from the sink to ease them down his throat. He then carefully put his messenger bag onto his right shoulder, took a steadying breath, and left his room.

The hallways were deserted, as was the courtyard leading to his U.S. History class, but that wasn't too surprising as second period had started about twenty minutes ago. When he reached his classroom, he hesitated for a moment outside the door before giving himself a mental shake, inhaled another calming breath, and opened the door.

As expected the entire class immediately turned towards him, including Mr. Clarke and Blaine stood there frozen for a second, mind completely blanking.

Fortunately, Mr. Clarke broke the silence fairly quickly. "I was not expecting to see you this morning, Mr. Cartwright although I must say it is good to see you up and about." So soon after what happened was the unspoken dialogue, but Blaine chose to ignore it.

"I apologize for being late, Mr. Clarke," Blaine said, "It won't happen again."

"Considering the circumstances, your tardiness is perfectly understandable," Mr. Clarke said with a reassuring smile, which Blaine returned eventually. He then eyed him speculatively. "Are you certain you're up to sitting through my class today?" Blaine nodded his head with a level of certainty that had his teacher nodding along not too long after. "All right, but if you feel like leaving at any time, please do so."

"Yes, sir."

"Please take your seat then," the older man said, gesturing to the back of the room before turning back to the class. "Now, let's get back to McCarthyism."

As Blaine made his way to his seat, he received a few 'good to see you, man's', fist bumps, and smiles. Needless to say, it brightened his mood considerably and made his goal of returning things to normal seem more attainable.

Blaine settled into his desk, pulled out his notebook and pencil, and began taking notes.

He could do this.

oOo

Kurt entered McKinley and immediately noticed that something was up. The atmosphere in the school was a little subdued and the students he noted in the hallway were all whispering in low tones.

"Did you hear?"

"It's _**crazy**_."

"Heard he spent a night in jail because his parents wouldn't bail him out."

"I heard the guy was in surgery for hours."

"It was just the one guy though. Weird considering it's an all-boys school. Aren't they all, you know, homos?"

Kurt froze in mid step, an overwhelming sense of unease settling over him and he turned towards the voice. The sophomore must have noticed Kurt because he jumped all of a sudden, eyes widening at the intense look the countertenor was directing at him.

"Look," the kid backpedaled, "I didn't mean it _**that**_ way, okay?"

Kurt disregarded the statement (because how else could you mean it) and asked instead, "What were you talking about?"

The boy glanced to his friend, who just held up his hands in an 'I'm not getting in the middle of this' gesture, before speaking. "Dave Karofsky. He beat up a kid yesterday in some boarding school. With a baseball bat. They arrested him."

The moment Karofsky's name was mentioned Kurt was put on full alert, his entire body going taunt like a bow string. "And?" he asked tersely.

The kid looked confused. "And what?"

"What school? Who was it? When did it happen?" he asked in rapid succession, his grip on the strap of his messenger bag tightening as he did.

"I already told you it was yesterday and how should I know?" the kid scoffed getting pretty fed up with the interrogation.

Kurt made a frustrated noise. "Useless! Everyone in this school is completely useless!" he practically shouted as he turned around, reached into his bag and pulled out his phone. He walked to his locker ignoring the muttered freak aimed in his direction and scrolled through his contacts until Blaine's name came up.

His thumb hovered over the name and he noticed his hand was trembling slightly. There was no reason to believe it was Blaine—that it was anyone he knew, but Karofsky knew who Blaine was, had threatened Kurt just yesterday if he told anyone about the kiss. Blaine knew about the kiss. Blaine went to a boarding school. Blaine was openly gay. But Blaine had texted him yesterday, his words bearing their usual witticism. Then again, he didn't respond to his query about how his day was. At the time Kurt owned it up to the other being busy, but now there was something undeniably sinister about the silence.

Kurt thumbed mobile and pressed his phone to his ear. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail.

"Hey, this is Blaine. Leave a message."

Kurt exhaled a shaky breath steeling himself to sound as normal as possible. "Hey. It's me, Kurt. I—there's some talk going around and I just wanted to check to see if you were all right. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay? Talk to you soon."

Kurt ended the call, but continued to stare at his phone. Blaine was probably in class and couldn't answer his phone his brain reasoned. Blaine was fine.

Kurt rotated his phone and began typing a text.

**Hey, can you call or text me as soon as you get this?**

Kurt pressed send then clutched his phone to his chest, leaning against his locker as he waited for a response. Blaine was fairly good at responding to texts even if he was in class. So when fifteen minutes passed without anything happening Kurt was officially freaking out.

Without making the conscious decision to do so, he was already jogging to the entrance of the school maneuvering around the many students still trickling in.

"Kurt?"

Someone snagged his arm pulling him to a stop and he automatically tried to get himself free.

"Dude, what's wrong?"

Kurt finally looked up the arm that held him, saw Finn and blurted out, "I have to get out of here. Blaine, he—" Kurt shook his head. "Let go of me, Finn."

"Who?" Finn said looking even more confused. "Where are you going? School's about to start."

"I don't have time to explain this to you, Finn Hudson," Kurt hissed. "Let me go. _**Now**_."

Finn did so as if he was physically burnt, and Kurt continued his brisk trek out of McKinley.

He didn't notice he was followed until his keys were ripped out of his hands. Kurt spun around and completely snapped. "What do you think you're doing, Finn? Give those back."

Finn backed up, hands raised defensively as Kurt stalked towards him. "No way, man. You are at a hundred percent freak out, and you shouldn't be driving."

"Finn—"

"Look," Finn said in a placating tone, "I'll drive, okay? Wherever you want."

Kurt looked about ready to protest when Finn cut him off. "You're shaking, Kurt. You—Just let me drive, okay?"

The red haze that had filled Kurt's vision receded as he looked down at his hands that were indeed shaking uncontrollably. He clenched them into fists before inhaling a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "Okay," he finally relented and moved to the passenger's side of his Navigator. "Hurry up, Finn," he snapped when he noticed that the taller jock hadn't moved.

Finn high-tailed it to the driver's seat and started the car. "Where to?"

Kurt punched in the address into his GPS and Finn did a double take at the name that popped up. "Dalton Academy? Isn't that—"

"Just drive, Finn," Kurt said sounding tired. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away from the other to stare out the window.

Finn didn't say another word, backed the car out of its parking space and drove off school property.

oOo

Wes was going to kill Blaine.

He had stopped by their room between second and third period to check up on the vocalist and saw that he was missing along with his uniform and bag.

Wes bit back a curse as he stormed out of his room and headed towards Blaine's calculus class. The moron would decide to go to class even after the doctor specifically told him to take it easy the first few days and to not jostle his arm too much.

Wes realized his anger may have been misdirected, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He still didn't know who that guy was who broke Blaine's arm. No one was telling anyone anything. Not who the guy was, if this was just a random act of crazy, a hate crime, or one of the other hundred scenarios he and his friends had thought up during dinner the previous night.

Honestly, Wes never expected anything like this to happen, especially here at Dalton. Sure, he read about violent crimes in the news all the time, but experiencing something like this firsthand? Wes couldn't remember a time when he was so scared and angry and he hadn't even been there when Blaine got attacked. Paul had caught him as he was heading to AP physics, explained what happened in a panicked voice and how Blaine wasn't responding to them or letting anyone near him and Wes just took off.

Wes never wanted to see his friend—or anyone for that matter—in that position again. It was awful and terrible and reminded him how much this world sucked.

As flashes of yesterday came to mind, Wes started to jog across the quad wanting to see Blaine this second. Blaine may have developed into his current cool, charming, and confident self, but Wes also remembered the Blaine of three years previous: nervous, shy, and someone who jumped at any unexpected noise. Blaine always did his best to hide this vulnerable part of himself and that's what worried Wes the most because he wasn't sure what his friend would do to accomplish that. This naturally drew out his protective instincts. Wes was the eldest brother of four; he couldn't turn it off even if he wanted to.

There was still five minutes before the start of third period, so he had no qualms about walking into the classroom and zeroing in on Blaine who sat in the second row chatting to Erik.

Wes calmly placed the palms of his hands across Blaine's desk immediately calling attention to himself. He pasted a tight grin on his face. "Blaine."

Blaine's returning smile was slightly more wary. "Hey, Wes. Don't you have AP physics?"

Wes leaned on his hands until he was mere centimeters from Blaine and noted the lines of discomfort around the other's eyes and how his face was slightly pale. "May I have a word?"

Blaine opened his mouth, but Wes cut him off. "Outside. Please," he added as an afterthought.

Something shuttered in Blaine's expression—it was so quick that if Wes hadn't been paying attention he wouldn't have caught it—before the other agreed with a nod.

"I'll talk to you later, Erik," Blaine said as he stood up. Erik shrugged before turning to talk to another student Wes did not recognize.

They walked until they exited the building. Sound carried easily down the halls of the McGregor Building and as Blaine had a feeling that this conversation was not going to be a calm exchange, opted to just move it outside.

Once there, Blaine leaned against the side of the building feeling a little lightheaded. He was pushing himself, he knew that, and was actually considering heading back to his room before Wes showed up. The other looked pissed, and Blaine expected to be yelled at the moment they were alone; however, Wes was currently intent on rifling through his backpack from which he pulled out a granola bar. He then proceeded to tear open the wrapper.

"Here," Wes said holding the bar out to Blaine. "I know for a fact that you must be hungry considering you fell asleep before I got back from dinner last night and slept through breakfast."

Blaine accepted the bar, looked at it, and then at Wes as a genuine smile pulled at his cheeks. "Thanks," he said before taking a bite. He was hungry actually; didn't even notice until he saw the food.

Wes nodded. "You're welcome. Now what the hell do you think you're doing? You know the doctors said to take it easy and to skip school. What if someone bumped into you?"

Blaine took another bite knowing he was delaying the inevitable, but did so anyway. Wes merely folded his arms across his chest and waited patiently for Blaine to swallow.

Blaine sighed. "I feel better, okay? I don't want to fall behind in my classes."

Wes looked at him skeptically. "Bull shit."

bristled. "Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, for what you did yesterday, but I'm okay, all right? Let's just move on."

Wes stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "Are you insane? What—do you even hear yourself?"

Blaine stuffed the last bit of granola in his mouth before shoving the wrapper in his pants pocket. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Blaine was missing the point entirely and Wes was fairly certain he was being intentionally thick. Still, there were answers he wanted to know and this was a convenient opening if he ever heard one. "Well, for starters you can tell me who that guy was. Did you even know him?"

Blaine fell silent, not because he was debating on whether or not he would tell Wes the truth, but because he was trying to decide how much to tell him without breaking Kurt's trust. Up until now, Blaine had only mentioned to Wes how he was helping Kurt deal with some things at his school, never really going into the details because there was no reason to and although Kurt never told him directly not to, it was implied. Blaine owed it to Wes to tell him something though considering how the other had stuck by him this entire time and how truly concerned he looked. "Yea, kind of," he finally said. "He's from McKinley; Kurt's school."

"Kurt?"

Blaine frowned at Wes. "Yea...you know the guy who spied—"

"I remember who he is," Wes said looking mildly offended. "How could I not with all your mooning?"

Blaine was struck speechless for a moment before his hackles raised. "I was not—"

Wes gave him a pointed look. "Yes, you were. Believe me. Though I'm just wondering why he's here," Wes said pointing over his shoulder.

Blaine turned around to look and was surprised to see Kurt barreling down the quad towards them. Kurt looked like a man on a mission—a man dressed impeccably in black skinny jeans and a familiar blue Marc Jacobs jacket—although you could see the telltale signs of worry etched on his face. Not to mention the fact that his hair was slightly disheveled. That was most disconcerting of all. David and a mammoth teenager in a grey sweatshirt and jeans, who Blaine didn't recognize, trailed closely behind him.

Blaine frowned slumping against the stone wall behind him. He wasn't ready to see Kurt. He hadn't figured out what he was going to say to him yet. How'd he find out about this so fast?

Wes watched how Blaine's entire body grew tense and wary and he frowned as he looked back at the approaching group of people. He knew David wouldn't be hanging out with anyone untrustworthy especially after what happened yesterday. All the same, Wes sidled up alongside Blaine and waited with him as the others arrived, hoping his presence would calm the other down and that the encounter would provide him with some much needed answers.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean you can't let me in?" Kurt demanded, while Finn shifted awkwardly beside him. Both stood just outside the metal gates that separated the parking lot and the grounds of Dalton Academy. An older, uniformed man stood in front of them, arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. Finn darted his eyes from the man to Kurt, then back again. They arrived a little over two and a half hours after they left McKinley—the longer drive a result of heavy traffic—and it looked as if their trip was about to come to an abrupt end if the security guard blocking their path was any indication.

"There was an incident that took place here yesterday," the guard explained, "and as a result, we are not allowing any unauthorized visitors onto school grounds. I'm sorry, but if you are not on the visitor's list, or do not have anyone to sign you in, I cannot let you on the premises."

Kurt's mouth fell open in shock before twisting into what Finn recognized as his 'I'm about to say a lot of big words that will make you feel like a complete idiot' look. Finn didn't think that would help, really, so quickly reached over and patted Kurt on the shoulder. "Kurt, why don't you try calling Blaine again?" he suggested.

Kurt snapped his mouth shut before nodding wordlessly and pulled out his phone to make the call. Crisis temporarily diverted, Finn breathed an internal sigh of relief before using the opportunity to peer past the guard to take in the school around him. When they first approached the school in Kurt's car, he was a bit dumbstruck with how massive the school was. Upon closer inspection, he was right in that _**everything**_ was made of grey stone and certain buildings looked more like castles than what he assumed were classrooms. He could see at least two fountains from the gate and nice open courtyards with trees and park benches. What stood out the most to Finn though was how perfect it all looked—like a scene out of a movie—and not like any other high school he had ever seen before. There was no doubt in his mind that you had to be pretty loaded to go to this school.

Finn's attention eventually returned to Kurt and he saw that the shorter diva was worrying the bottom of his lip again and that his knuckles were white where he held his phone.

Kurt hadn't wound down a bit since they left McKinley. They were about halfway into their trip when Finn finally dredged up the nerve to ask the other what was going on. The ride up to that point was in stony silence and Finn was growing more anxious with how Kurt's expression changed continuously from anger to worry to dread. Finn was used to mood swings (Rachel went through moods like it was out of style), but wasn't used to them coupled with gloomy silence.

_"So...are you going to let me know what's going on?" Finn asked in a rush. "I mean, I know things haven't been really...cool...between us lately, but you know, with your dad and my mom, it's like we're almost brothers now. So, you can, you know, tell me stuff. If you want."_

_Kurt turned his head until he faced Finn, eyes assessing and Finn felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in unease. After what felt like a very long time, but was only mere seconds, Kurt returned to staring down into his lap and Finn released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Kurt had a way of looking right through you and it never failed to make Finn nervous._

_When the silence stretched past a few minutes, Finn risked a few, quick sideways glances and saw that Kurt was staring at his hands, which were clenching and unclenching repeatedly before finally clamping into fists. He saw Kurt's eyes narrow and a determined look settle on his face._

_"Karofsky kissed me."_

_"Wait—What?" Finn said, wide eyes leaving the road entirely to gawk at Kurt and the car swerved a little._

_"Finn Hudson, if you put a single scratch on my baby, I will CUT you!"_

_Finn snapped his eyes back to the road in front of him, but his brain was still trying to catch up to what his ears had heard. "Why would he...when did that happen?"_

_"Because he's a closeted hypocrite of the worst kind," Kurt said voice full of disdain, but the self-righteous anger that consumed him only a moment ago drained just as quickly. "He did it two weeks ago," Kurt confessed, his entire body drooping. "He shoved me into my locker and it was just—I couldn't take it anymore. I ran after him and gave him a piece of my mind."_

_Finn expelled a surprised breath. "Dude...he could have slaughtered you."_

_Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "I wasn't thinking about that though. I was just fed up, and Blaine..." Kurt bit his lip, voice trailing away._

_"Blaine knew what it was like," Kurt finally said. "He knew what I was going through—understood it. He gave me the perspective to decide to stand up for myself."_

_Finn's brow furrowed. "He told you to confront a guy who had a hundred pounds on you? No offense, dude, but I don't think that was the smartest advice."_

_Kurt scowled. "It was much better advice than I'd been given recently—or rather the _**only**_ advice and support I'd been given and what would _**you**_ have done, Finn? No one cares. The faculty sees this all the time and they don't _**do**_ anything. I couldn't—How was I supposed to know he would—"_

_Kurt inhaled a few calming breaths, eyes closed briefly before saying in a more level tone, "It was awful. One minute we were screaming at each other and the next he was—"_

_"Yeah, okay, I get it," Finn interjected quickly not really wanting to hear the details, but Kurt continued on as if he hadn't spoken, his voice slightly detached._

_"He kissed me. When he pulled back, he tried to kiss me again, but I pushed him away." Kurt's entire body shook as he spoke. "He ran off then and ever since he's been making my life a living hell. Afraid I'll out him, I imagine."_

_Finn shot him a curious look. "Uh, why haven't you?" he asked because it only made sense that he would. "After everything he's done to us, he completely deserves it."_

_"Because unfortunately I know what it's like to be ostracized and bullied and despite what Karofsky's done, I can't bring myself to do that to him. It's not my place to out him," Kurt replied trying to radiate flippancy, but it sounded to Finn as if the other had thought about it a lot. Nevertheless.  
_

"_But—"_

"_No, Finn," Kurt said, his voice completely resolute, and Finn snapped his mouth shut._

_Silence descended once more as Finn tried to process all he was told and attempted to recall anything in the past couple of weeks that would have even hinted that this had happened. Sure, he noticed that Kurt was a little more quiet than usual, but would never have imagined this to be the cause._

_"Does your dad know about this?" he asked eventually._

_"Are you crazy?" Kurt snapped running a frustrated hand through his hair and Finn knew it was serious because Kurt never intentionally messed up his hair. "I can't tell my dad. He's only just started to recover. I just...I _**couldn't**_."_

_"Okay. Okay, I get that," Finn conceded. "But what about us? We could have had your back, man."_

_Kurt laughed shaking his head in disbelief. "Finn this isn't anything new. The kiss, yes, but the bullying? It's never stopped since middle school," he said glancing at him pointedly, "and I've survived this long without anyone's help."_

_Finn winced at Kurt's condemning stare, a wave of shame washing over him because he used to be a part of Kurt's problem. It was different now though and he wanted to believe that he would have done something if he knew what was going on with Kurt and Karofsky._

_Unfortunately, Kurt didn't think so and maybe he was right to believe that considering how freaked he got over the other's crush on him. He still felt a sharp sting in his chest whenever he thought about it and the verbal beat down he received from Burt. He knew it was wrong to call Kurt that word, never thought he would ever say it, but. He had been uncomfortable with the attention, which wasn't an excuse, but he probably should have just told Kurt. Yet, what dude told another dude they were making them uncomfortable? And with the whole surprise moving in thing and sharing rooms without anyone talking to him about it first...it was just one ambush after another and Finn just lost it. Said all those things he now regretted and made his mom so disappointed in him._

_Finn wanted to do the right thing. Wanted to be like his dad who was brave and stood up for what was right. But it seemed every time Finn wanted to do the right thing, it inevitably turned out that what he thought was right was in fact the complete wrong thing to do, and he honestly wanted to fix that._

_"So, you told this Blaine guy?" he asked instead of responding to what Kurt had said._

_"Yes," Kurt replied. "Yes, I told Blaine. He—He's gay, too, Finn and went through similar experiences in his old school. He gets it."_

_Finn nodded. "Well, that's cool. That's—That's awesome actually." At Kurt's confused expression Finn explained. "I'm glad you have someone you can talk to about this since you won't talk to us about it."_

_To Finn's benefit, he realized how that sounded the moment it came out of his mouth and didn't even need to be prompted by Kurt's darkening expression to say, "No, that's not what I meant. I'm not saying you were wrong for not talking to us. I just. I meant I'm glad you have someone who's like you and who you feel you can talk to since you don't feel like you can talk to us because we wouldn't get it. Not everything anyway, and I know most of the time I say things that get you mad or upset—which I'm really, really sorry about—so, if you have to talk to this Blaine guy, then that's cool. Because you should have someone you can talk to and with my track record, I'm probably not the best person for the job." Finn braked the car to a stop due to the bumper to bumper traffic in front of him and turned to look at the other. "Though if you ever wanted, I'm here too. I can't say I'll understand everything, but I'll try my best to listen."_

_Kurt stared at Finn for a while and Finn was afraid he said something stupid or offensive again, but then the lines around Kurt's eyes softened and he said sincerely, "Thanks, Finn."_

_Finn responded with a small, somewhat shy smile in return._

Kurt had then explained how Blaine had come to McKinley to help confront Karofsky about the kiss and relayed the gossip he heard this morning. By the end of it, even Finn could see why Kurt was so worried.

_"I know there's a chance that I'm overreacting, Finn, but there are just too many coincidences. It'll drive me crazy if I don't know for sure."_

Kurt had left several more messages on Blaine's phone while they drove, timing it so they were left between classes, but he still hadn't received any responses.

So here they were. They definitely knew something had gone down the day before but again were not able to gain any specifics.

"He's not answering," Kurt said lowering his phone from his ear before turning to the guard again. "Could you please make an exception?" he asked. "The incident you're referring to, I think it may have involved one of my friends, and I just want to check to see if he's okay."

The older man shook his head again, his stance relaxing a degree upon seeing how genuinely upset Kurt was getting. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't."

Kurt looked as if he was about to cry and Finn panicked. He couldn't handle tears, like ever, so tried everything in his power to stop it. "Do you at least know if what happened yesterday involved a student from a different school? And if it involved one of your students getting beaten up with a bat?" he asked hurriedly. "That's all we really came here to find out."

"I had the day off yesterday," the guard admitted, rubbing his forehead, "so don't know much of the details. Just that it involved someone who didn't attend this school; however, whether it was a student from another school or just someone in general, I don't know. One of our students did get hurt, but I don't know how." The older man sighed. "I'm truly sorry. I wish I could be of more help."

The guard did look sincerely apologetic that even Kurt couldn't bring himself to be angry at the man.

"Thank you for your time," Kurt said before walking back to his car.

Finn also thanked the man before jogging to Kurt's side. "Hey. So, now what?"

Kurt sighed scrubbing his eyes in frustration. "Now we drive back to Lima."

"What? That's it?"

"Yes, Finn. What else can we do?"

Kurt looked completely downtrodden and Finn didn't like that at all. Kurt was always so put together, head held high no matter what. "This is really getting to you, isn't it," he said.

Kurt barked out a laugh. "Of course it is. How would it make you feel if Rachel was hurt and you couldn't get to her? It's—if anything happened to Blaine it'd be my fault."

"You don't even know if Blaine was involved, man. It might have been someone else—some_**where**_ else," Finn pointed out. "And what do you mean your fault? You didn't do anything."

Exactly, Kurt thought as he leaned back against his car, head bowed and arms held loosely around his chest. He should have listened to Blaine and reported the kiss in the locker room, or at least told his dad. If he did, then they wouldn't be in this situation. He wanted to believe that Blaine was perfectly okay and that he had only jumped to conclusions, but he couldn't because he just didn't know. If only Blaine would answer his phone.

"Kurt?"

Kurt snapped to attention his eyes darting to the new voice and his heart accelerated. "David."

The dark-skinned Warbler slammed his car door shut before making his way over to them. "Hey, man, what brings you here?" David said before extending his hand to Finn. "I don't think we've met. If you hadn't figured it out already though, I'm David."

Finn blinked not used to people his age introducing themselves with a handshake. He snapped out of it pretty quickly though and shook David's hand. "Finn."

"Nice to meet you, Finn. I'm assuming you're from McKinley too?"

"Er—"

"David, is Blaine all right?" Kurt interrupted unable to sit through the pleasantries.

David looked momentarily surprised before his expression seemed to close off. "How do you know about that?"

Kurt wasn't at all prepared to be proven right; regardless that the possibility rang so true it made him drive over eighty miles just to check. He felt as if he was just sucker punched in the gut, and he didn't know what to say for a full minute, dread overwhelming him to the point it rendered him speechless. When he did find his voice to respond to David, the words spilled rapidly out of his mouth. "There was talk this morning at our school," he explained, "about how one of our students attacked a student at a boarding school. It sounded like it involved Blaine, but he wouldn't pick up his cell, so I had to come here to see for myself, but they wouldn't let us in. Is Blaine okay? How bad was he hurt? Is he still at the hospital? C—"

"Whoa, whoa, okay. Breathe, Kurt," David said waving his hands as if he were calming a wild animal. "Blaine's okay, well, the bastard broke his arm, but he's not at the hospital anymore. They actually released him last night, so he's here on campus."

The weight that bore down on Kurt's shoulders lifted fractionally at the news that Blaine was well enough to be released the same day. Yet, he was just as quickly overridden with guilt upon recalling how exactly Blaine got put into this situation in the first place. "David, can you sign us in?" Kurt asked. "This is all my fault; I—I just want to see for myself that Blaine is okay."

"Dude, you did not make Karofsky come here with a bat," Finn insisted, not liking it at all that Kurt was still trying to take some of the blame for what happened. "This is all on Karofsky."

"Finn—"

"Is that his name?" David growled eyeing both McKinley students. "I wasn't there and no one's told us anything and Blaine wasn't..." David paused, realizing what he was about to say and knowing Blaine wouldn't like him revealing things about him to strangers and acquaintances alike, let his words trail away.

"Blaine wasn't...?" Kurt prompted.

David shook his head. "Forget it," he said, voice clipped. "Tell me why you think this is your fault. _**Then**_ I'll decide if I'm letting you in or not." Because no matter how highly Blaine spoke of Kurt of late, David didn't _**know**_ Kurt. Had only met him once before and although he didn't seem like the malicious/crazy sort who would have Blaine attacked with a baseball bat, David wasn't going to take any chances. Blaine was one of his best friends. _**No one**_ messed with his friends.

Fortunately, it didn't take very long for Kurt to explain. David's brain was still swimming with the story of a closeted football player, bullying and sexual harassment as he led them all to the dormitories. It was random chance really that when they were walking across the quad they had spotted both Blaine and Wes by the McGregor Building having a seemingly heated argument. And just like that Kurt took off running, and David and Finn could only do their best to catch up.

oOo

"Kurt," Blaine said with a lot less enthusiasm than he would have under normal circumstances. Kurt hadn't noticed, however, eyes roaming up and down Blaine's body and settling on his cast. A flash of anger and remorse flittered across his eyes and Kurt blurted out the words he'd been planning to say ever since he heard about the attack. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Regardless of how unprepared he felt upon seeing Kurt and knowing the other would have this exact reaction, it still didn't stop him from feeling upset that Kurt would take the blame for this; no matter that he himself had similar thoughts the previous night. After a full night's rest, however, Blaine realized it was no more Kurt's fault than it was Blaine's for trying to reason with Karofsky yesterday and believing the football player would listen to what he had to say. He believed the sooner Kurt realized this too, the sooner they could all put this behind them. And there wasn't anything Blaine wanted more than to pretend that this never happened.

For that reason, he placed his hand over Kurt's to still his wringing hands. Before he could assuage Kurt of his guilt, however, Wes took it upon himself to speak up.

"Why is he apologizing?" Wes asked his tone suspicious. "Did he have something to do with you getting the shit beaten out of you?"

"Stop exaggerating, Wes, and no," Blaine stated firmly, eyes not leaving Kurt's. "He had nothing to do with it and I don't know why he's apologizing for something he didn't do." Kurt looked ready to object, but Blaine just shook his head. "Kurt, it wasn't your fault, and as you can see, I'm fine."

Wes snorted and the skeptical sound had Blaine spinning around so fast you'd thought he'd get whiplash. "What is your deal?" he practically shouted, taking a step towards his roommate.

"You are so far from fine it's not even funny," Wes replied, not intimated at all by his friend's stance and closed the distance between them.

Kurt followed the exchange unable to look away. Not once had he heard Blaine raise his voice in the time they've known each other and it made him wonder if he even knew Blaine all that well. David, on the other hand, was all too familiar with this situation. Wes and Blaine hardly ever fought, but on the rare occasion they did, it was like King Kong versus Godzilla; no one was excluded from the carnage.

David stepped between them pushing them apart, Blaine more carefully than Wes. "Guys, cool it. We have guests," he finished half-jokingly as he jerked his thumb to both Kurt and Finn, the latter of which was trying not to stare too openly at what was unfolding before him considering he had no idea who these people were.

David's slight rebuke seemed to cap the rising tension and both Warblers spared a quick glance to the McKinley students.

"What are you doing out here anyway, Blaine?" David asked, hoping to change the subject. "I thought you'd be sleeping." It didn't take very long for David to notice that this was the completely wrong thing to say, if the triumphant look that Wes now sported and the grimace Blaine displayed was any indication.

David quickly backpedaled. "Uh, not that—"

"See, even David agrees with me and we know he's the least responsible one among us."

"Hey—"

Blaine released a frustrated breath and his glare returned in full force in Wes' direction. "I know my limits, Wes."

"You just _**think**_ you do," Wes argued. "You can't even remember to eat and you just want to sweep this entire thing under the rug as if it didn't happen. That's _**real**_ healthy, Blaine," Wes said sarcastically and the shorter teen flinched. "God, next you're going to tell me that you're going to let that guy get away with this."

Blaine didn't immediately deny the accusation, had actually looked pensive for a second and Wes threw his arms up in disbelief. "Oh my God, you _**are**_ going to let him get away with this! Are you insane?"

"I didn't say that," Blaine hedged not meeting his eyes.

"But you're thinking about it," Kurt said, speaking up for the first time since his initial apology. "You can't, Blaine. Whatever you're thinking, whatever noble intentions you're having, Karofsky's not worth it. He..." Kurt trailed off, looking uneasily at Finn, who tilted his head in a 'what's up' manner.

"He what, Kurt?" Wes asked impatiently when Kurt didn't look like he was going to continue.

Kurt shifted his attention away from Finn to Blaine who was waiting patiently for him to answer, but Kurt could also tell he was nervous to hear what he had to say. Kurt hadn't told Finn about Karofsky threatening him, knowing it would get back to his dad and the resulting blow up that would certainly occur was not something his dad could handle right now.

Blaine deserved to know the truth though especially if he was considering letting Karofsky get away with this. And he couldn't let that happen. What if Karofsky hurt someone else?

"He threatened to kill me yesterday," Kurt said, voice low, but no less urgent. "That if I told anyone about the kiss he would. That's why when I first heard about what he did this morning, I just knew it was you he..." Kurt bit his lip and shook his head. "I'm so _**sorry**_, Blaine."

Blaine stared at Kurt uncomprehendingly, felt everything become more muted even as Wes began another tirade about how fucked up this was and if Kurt wasn't here, you (Blaine) would have gone and done something stupid like forgiven this psychopath, and clearly you (Blaine) needed more rest to think straight. Blaine stopped paying attention after that; everything just faded away until he couldn't hear anything but white static.

_/Hey, homo let's go for a ride/_

_/Chill, man. You get to hang with us today. You're going to _**love**_ this/_

_/Guys...hey, don't you think this is enough/_

_/No. Not 'till he learns/_

"You can't just go on pretending this didn't happen. Ignoring it won't make it go awa—"

"Shut up."

Blaine's voice cut easily into Wes' rant, the low and bitter tone making everyone freeze. Blaine's body was visibly vibrating from where he stood, memories and feelings he long thought buried surfacing until he could barely see what was in front of him. "Stop telling me what to do. What do you know? You have no idea. No idea at all and you think you can just stand there and tell me how I should feel, what I should think—tell me what's the right way to _**react**_?"

Wes retreated back a step, too surprised to find the words to respond.

"You have no fucking clue. You don't—you don't know what they _**did**_ to me. How scared—" Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, his fist pressing into his forehead as if trying to push the memories back.

"Blaine." Wes took a cautious step towards the other, hand extended, but Blaine retreated just as quickly backing himself into the wall. "Don't touch me," he said voice hoarse, gaze slightly unfocused as he curled his right arm around his left. "I'm f-fine. Just..." He shook his head unable to finish his sentence and instead focused on trying to regain his composure. His body wouldn't stop shuddering though and he wondered why this was happening. He didn't want this. He didn't want to feel this way—didn't want anyone to see.

Wes cringed, glanced at David but the other looked as completely out of his depth as he did. Kurt looked equally shaken at the turn of events.

"Blaine!"

The shout came from behind them and all turned to see an older woman running in heels to their location. She wore a loose fitting green dress and her hair flew behind her like a chocolate wave.

Blaine reacted instinctively to the voice only managing to take two steps towards the woman before she was there, hands on his shoulders before moving to frame his face.

Blaine's shoulders relaxed for the first time since everything had happened and an inexplicable sense of relief and safety settled around him like a warm blanket. "Mom...how did you..."

Mrs. Karen Cartwright pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before absently thumbing the lipstick mark away. "We came as soon as we heard. Are you all right?"

Blaine still looked slightly dazed. "We?"

Karen nodded brow creased in worry. "Your father's right behind me. I didn't want to wait for him to park the car."

"But—"

"_**Blaine**_, are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked, glancing down to his left arm and hovering her hand over the sling as if she was afraid to touch it. Her eyes then swept him up and down looking for any other visible injuries.

Blaine shook his head, swallowing thickly, before saying, "It's just my arm. Broken and maybe some bruising on my back, but it's nothing major."

Karen covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water and Blaine felt his own throat begin to close up as he was reminded again of things past, which included his mother crying more times than Blaine wanted to remember.

"Mom, please don't cry. I'm okay. Really," he insisted, but the waver in his voice was palpable and Karen knew he was lying.

"You were supposed to be safe here," she whispered, voice overwrought. "What happened? You were supposed to be _**safe**_."

Blaine's face crumpled. "I know. I'm sorry, Mom, I'm sorry. I—"

Tears spilled down Blaine's cheeks and Karen immediately pulled her son to her chest, pressing his forehead to her shoulder and holding him as tight as she possibly could without hurting him. "Don't you dare be sorry, Blaine. It's not your fault; it's never you. If anyone should be sorry, it's those people who hurt you." She rubbed her hand up and down her son's back as his body continued to shudder. Seeing and feeling her son's distress made Karen's entire body ache. "I'm sorry, Blaine. We—We just can't seem to protect you, can we?"

Blaine wordlessly shook his head in denial, and Karen kissed the top of his black curls.

They stood there for a while longer until Blaine broke the silence by asking in a small voice, "Can I come home? I want to go home."

"Of course, darling," she said releasing Blaine only when he pulled back first. "Let's go gather your things from your room."

Blaine nodded, wiping his face as his mother placed her hand atop his right shoulder and steered him towards the dormitories. She stopped after a few steps, glanced over her shoulder to the group of boys that had stood by and witnessed everything. She felt her son tense and began to rub her thumb over his shoulder until he relaxed.

"Wesley?"

Wes stood to attention, squeaking a "Yes, Mrs. Cartwright?"

Karen offered a strained, but sincere smile. "Thank you for staying with Blaine when we couldn't."

"It was no trouble at all, Mrs. Cartwright," was Wes' quick response and his voice rose as he continued to say, "Blaine's my best friend. We've got each other's backs."

Karen had a feeling Wes was speaking more to her son than to herself and her responding smile came a little easier this time. She nodded, eyes traveling to the other three boys, two of which she didn't recognize. "It was nice seeing you again, David, and I'm afraid we haven't met," this she directed to the two boys who weren't wearing Dalton uniforms, "but thank you, all the same, for staying with Blaine."

The taller teen nodded his head a bit wide-eyed, while the other wouldn't meet her eyes and instead looked sadly at the ground. It was odd, but Karen didn't think too deeply about it, her thoughts focused entirely on her son as she led them both to the dorms and closer to home.

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
I had a really difficult time writing Finn and Kurt's conversation and actually am not entirely satisfied with it, even now. So, I would love to know what you thought about it (and this chapter in general).


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